Best Mistake
by salgal187
Summary: Harry and Sophie have been best friends since they were 5, but tragedy strikes after their seventh year at Hogwarts. When searching the abandoned castle, Harry comes across Sophie's most secret posession, her diary.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

It was a cold, rainy day in early November. The old castle was empty, save for a few bugs and possibly mice that roamed the hallways. The sounds of footsteps echoed as a raven haired teenager entered with two companions. It was silent until a light, cautious, female voice interrupted. "Harry, are you sure you want to do this?" the girl asked.

"Honestly? No, I'm not sure, but I just want one last look around." Harry answered.

"But-."

"Hermione, I know what I'm doing. One last look, please." Harry interrupted before she could give an excuse.

Unwillingly, Hermione nodded and the three teenagers ascended up a flight of stairs. A few minutes later, they arrived where a picture of "The Fat Lady" once hung, now it was a hole in the wall leading to the Gryffindor common room which, other than the fire being out and everything being covered in a years worth of dust, hadn't changed. Harry was the first to enter the room; he looked around with a sad smile on his pale face, 'so many memories' he thought to himself. "It's strange," Hermione said when she climbed through the hole, "It doesn't seem like it's been a whole year, since you killed Voldemort, since we've been at Hogwarts."

Ron nodded in agreement with Hermione as he grabbed her hand; she gently squeezed it, but didn't look away from Harry. Ron had recently proposed to Hermione, it wasn't much of a shock to anyone really, but they were none-the-less happy for the young couple.

Harry began walking to the stairs that led to the girls' dormitories, Hermione opened her mouth to object, but Ron stopped her, "Just let him go. He needs this and you know it."

The stairs creaked as Harry walked up them one by one, staring to the top with his magnificent emerald green eyes. The spell that was once on these stairs, keeping boys from entering had been lifted a while ago, during the war a year ago. As he reached the top, he realized he hadn't the slightest idea which room he was looking for.

As if she were reading his mind, Hermione appeared at his side and said, "Second one to the right."

"Thanks." Harry said quietly opening the door which Hermione had pointed out to him. The room was a rich chocolate brown color; it looked much like the boys' dormitories, only cleaner. After looking around for a little while, he found what he was looking for. On a table beside one of the four-poster beds was a picture frame holding a picture of a younger version of him and a pretty girl with curly strawberry blonde locks that almost reached her shoulders and aquamarine eyes. Harry sat on the bed and picked up the picture, a lump formed in his throat. He sat there for what seemed like hours looking at the two teens who were staring back up at him who seemed to laughing and having a good time.

"Erm, Mate, are you okay?" Ron's voice broke the trancelike state that Harry had gone into.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine." Harry answered unconvincingly, still staring at the picture in his hands, "I promise." He added, but then something caught his eye, something behind the pillow. "What the-" he cut himself off and lifted the pillow to find a deep purple, leather bound book with a silvery strap keeping the two sides closed.

"It's her diary," Hermione said. "She was always writing in that thing."

Harry nodded and undid the strap, surprised that it didn't have some sort of spell to keep unwelcome eyes from reading the secrets written within. Written in neat handwriting on the first yellowish-white page was:

_**Sophia Isabel Colburn**_

Harry let a sad sigh escape his thin lips as he turned to the next page to find her first entry. He read it silently to himself.

_August 13_

_Dear Diary,_

This is my first time to write in you, my mother wanted to give me something to keep me occupied and "out of her hair", so she gave me this wonderful diary as a birthday gift. Usually people keep diaries to write down secrets that they can't tell anyone else, I can usually count on my best friend Harry Potter for that, but he is rather forgetful and it would be nice to be able to read this ten years from now, I can't guarantee that Harry will still remember then. I don't believe in guarantees, especially when they involve someone else. Anyway, I am eleven years old and have known Harry for five years, he's my only real friend, everyone else is mean and picks on us, we thought it would be best to stick together and so far it has worked. I have reddish blonde hair and strange eyes, they look unnatural to me personally, but they make me unique. I think I'm really going to enjoy writing in this diary, but I'm going to go meet Harry, he told me to meet him at the swings, that he had a present for me. Goodbye.

_Sophie_

Harry looked up from the book; tears were now welling up in his eyes. He jumped when he felt a warm hand on his shoulder, he looked up to see Hermione, who then sat down next to him and gave him a comforting hug. Ron stood back, he wasn't good in situations like these, he wasn't even going to come but Hermione eventually convinced him that Harry would appreciate it if he would at least be with him.

"Maybe we should go now." Hermione suggested, "I think we've seen enough for today."

Harry nodded once again, not in the talking mood. He gently closed the diary, tightened the strap and stood up, still holding the diary.

"Wait, you're taking it with you?" Ron asked cocking an eyebrow.

"Well, I'm not going to leave it here; I don't see why I shouldn't." Harry said stubbornly, clutching the diary close to his chest.

"It's her diary. You can't just read it."

"You act as if it makes any difference now." Harry replied, his voice shaking.

Ron stood silently for a moment and sighed deeply, "Fine. But are you just going to leave the picture?"

Harry shook his head, he had almost forgotten about the picture when he found the diary. He picked up the picture from the bedside table which was rather messy. Harry found himself smiling, definitely one of Sophie's trademarks.

"Ready now?" Ron asked.

Harry nodded and made his way to the door, he could hardly wait to go home and start reading. Sure, it would probably bring back painful memories, but he wanted to know what Sophie _really_ thought.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Chapter 2**_

(I had to use the first book in this chapter to check things over,

and yes, Sophie and Harry are neighbors.)

It was around 9:30 P.M. when Harry arrived back at his apartment. It had been a long, emotional day, but he wasn't really tired yet. He wanted to read, he could almost imagine Hermione's shock. He could hear her voice inside his head, "You actually want to read?" as he nodded as if she had really asked him that question.

He changed into some pajamas and sat on his old bed, his apartment wasn't anything fancy. Harry wasn't one to flaunt and show off money that he had inherited, that he hadn't really earned. The walls were a deep blue; there wasn't a picture in the whole apartment, except the one that he had brought there, which he had placed on his bedside table.

Harry had been studying and working to become an auror, his dream for God knows how long now. At the moment he was without a job, he had attempted to step out of the limelight by only going outdoors for necessities. Even then he was bombarded with questions and the occasional person asking for an autograph.

The diary just sat there on the worn brown comforter unopened. As much as he wanted to open it and read the beautiful, curvy handwriting that was Sophie's, he couldn't bring himself to do it. Who knows what was written in there, what secrets she had kept from him. After staring at it for what seemed like an hour, he finally picked the diary up and gingerly loosened the strap and opened it again to the first page, displaying her name. He then turned to the second page, which he realized had not one, but two entries.

_August 20_

_Dear Diary,_

_The strangest thing happened to me today; a person came to my house and claimed he was a wizard, which I thought was completely absurd. He told me that I, of all people, was a witch and that I had been accepted to a place called Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I of course needed proof that this wasn't some prank that school kids were playing on me; kids are cruel beings as far as I'm concerned. So the strange man took out a polished stick about as long as a ruler, which must've been a wand, and muttered something that I didn't quite catch. I jumped when I saw my mother's prized vase lift off the mantle and across the room to me. "Go ahead, check for strings," he said with a smile on his face. I obeyed without question, running my hands all around the vase for about a minute. It wasn't a prank, not a string in sight. _

"_It's floating," I said, I must've sounded awfully stupid, "how?" _

"_Magic." He replied simply. _

_I hadn't even looked at my parents to see what they thought about all of this. They looked positively dumbfounded; I must've let out a small snicker because my father gave me a hard look. _

"_You mean to tell me that she," my father gestured to me, "is a witch?" _

"_Yes, I do believe that is the case Mr. Colburn."_

"_But, where is this school?" _

"_I can't actually tell you that, but it is a boarding school-" _

"_I'm not paying for a pointless boarding school." My father said interrupting the wizard who I hadn't yet asked his name. _

"_Oh, no, you don't pay tuition for Hogwarts, the only thing you even have to pay for are the books, robes, a wand of course, a cauldron, and other various things." My father and the wizard went on for what seemed like forever as I sat there biting my nails. I wish I didn't bit my nails so much, it truly is an awful habit to break, but sometimes you really can't help it. Anyway, I should tell you now that I get on tangents a lot, but back to the discussion. As I sat there, thinking about the fact that I was a witch, someone tapped my shoulder, I jumped for some reason, and I'm not usually a skittish person. _

"_I believe you'd like to read this." The wizard said handing me an envelope which read:_

_Ms. S. Colburn_

_The second bedroom_

_7 Privet Drive_

_Little Whinging_

_Surrey_

_I looked up from the letter and to the wizard again, "I don't believe I've asked you your name." I said rather timidly._

"_No need to be shy, my name is Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, but you can call me Professor Dumbledore." _

_I nodded wordlessly, that was possibly the strangest name I had ever heard in my life. Wait until I tell Harry about this. I stopped, Harry, what was I going to do? I couldn't go to boarding school and leave him here. I would be lost, he would be lost. _

"_I really should be going now. All the information you will need is in that letter that Ms. Colburn is holding." Dumbledore announced. "I trust you know where King's Cross station is."_

_I just nodded again; we'd been there a few times before. _

_After Dumbledore left, we all just sat there, my sister, Carmen glared at me as if I was dirt. She hated me, no questions about it. This probably confirmed my freak status in her harsh brown eyes. We looked absolutely nothing alike, she had straight, thin, brown hair, a rather large nose, and of course those brown eyes full or hatred and resentment toward me, her youngest and only sister. "Uhm. I need to go talk to Harry." I said standing up fast and heading toward the door. I was relieved to walk outside, away from the gawking. I inhaled the wonderful aromas coming from the garden that I had to help with while Carmen stayed inside filing her nails and talking excitedly about the 'gorgeous senior boys' with her friends. She was after all, a popular teenage girl. After a minute or so I arrived at Number Four Privet Drive and gently knocked on the door. No answer, so I knocked again. Still no answer. I then noticed there wasn't a car in the driveway, and now that I thought about it, I hadn't seen Harry in a few days. Had the Dursleys actually taken him on Vacation with them? Surely not. There had to be an explanation, but what? "Mrs. Figg!" I said aloud, not actually realizing it at the time, that is until a middle age man walking past gave me a questioning glance. I shrugged it off and made my way to Old Mrs. Figg's house. I'd never actually gone inside, but Harry has told me it smelled like cats and cooked cabbage, not the most pleasant of smells in my opinion. I reached what I knew to be the Mrs. Figg's door, only from Harry showing it to me when I asked about it. I admit that, I am shy. Going up to a person's house that I had never met before wasn't on my list of things I wanted to do with my time. I took a deep breath and knocked on the door just loud enough so she could hear. After about a minute of waiting, I leaned in to knock again when the door opened. _

"_Can I help you?" the woman that was most likely Mrs. Figg asked. _

_I nodded, "Yes, uhm.. Is Harry Potter staying here? The Dursleys seem to have left for a few days and I can't remember a time when they actually took Harry with them." I said all in one breath. _

_Mrs. Figg frowned slightly as if in thought, "No, he's not with me. I'm sorry I don't know where he could be. Are you certain he's not there?"_

_I nodded again, "Almost positive, I knocked on the door for about ten minutes. Nothing."_

"_Well, I'm sorry miss, but I haven't the slightest idea where else he would go, he must be with the Dursleys then." _

_I smiled slightly, "Thank you." _

_I sighed and walked back toward my house, taking much longer than usual. Where was Harry? Why didn't he tell me he was leaving? None of it made any sense. And my final question, what in the world was going on in my life?_

Harry read the last line and yawned, he had been reading slowly. He looked over to the clock on his wall, it read 12:37. It was past midnight and he hadn't even noticed. Harry closed the diary and tightened the strap around it. He lifted up the covers on his bed and lied down hugging the diary close. His eyes shut and he was asleep within minutes.


End file.
